Invocation
by Fluidfyre
Summary: Post DA2. Once devout Andrastian Siobhan Hawke is Viscountess, and though she has the elven man she loves at her side, her shadows of doubt deepen as she reflects on her actions – and finds her faith absent. Hawke/Fenris.
1. A Prayer

**A/N: This'll be a shorter story than some of my rest, but it's been kicking around in my thoughts. Did a play through completely opposite of my other snarky, Anders-loving Hawke, and this is what came to mind... We'll see where it goes! Working on it and another (Anathema's Anchor's sequel, Casus Belli), and others too haha - but I wanted to share this one first!**

* * *

><p><em>Siobhan Hawke clutched her blade, wide-eyed at the glowing statue left of Knight-Commander Meredith. The eerie silence was finally broken by the clink of mail and plate as the templars stepped towards her. As Fenris touched her arm, the Order sank to their knees.<em>

_ "Champion," the Knight-Captain said. "You have saved us once again."_

_ "Have I?" Hawke asked, paling considerably._

* * *

><p>The rooms were cleaned and sunlight shone in the high windows, but Hawke could not shake the shadows that clung in the memories of the Viscount's Keep. Her quarters now it seemed. The air echoed with the bustle of new servants and the city guard, though she had shut the door on them all. Let them work. Let them flutter with hope and promise. A coat of paint over where the beetles scurried and insects that already gnawed the framework once more, waiting for their piece and chance at power.<p>

She wandered onto the balcony that overlooked Hightown, unable to keep her gaze from drawing to the blackened hole where the Chantry had been. Leaning on the banister, she hung her head, scarce moving as the door behind her opened and closed.

Fenris tread across the room on silent steps, knowing better than to intrude more than needed. When he drifted into the sunlight beside her, he touched the small of her back, "Siobhan."

"That's me," Hawke quietly replied, still staring over the city. The pyres. The pyres were burning with all of the dead. They had been burning for days. A pyre upon which Anders would not find himself. Earth that Merrill wouldn't embrace, no roots nourished from her remains. Would any of the mages find peace?

"Aveline has been asking for you," he quietly said, leaning back against the railing and crossing his arms. "Maker knows what she expects to learn from me."

"You don't think you're afforded any respect or power as my right hand?" Hawke quietly said.

A small grin quirked the elf's lips, "I wouldn't be so bold to consider myself such. But perhaps I should?"

"What do you wish then, my wolf," Hawke finally looked to him with heavy eyes. "What would you ask of your viscount?"

"I would be content to see you smile," he said and pulled her closer. She allowed the intimacy, laying her head upon his shoulder to look over the city again as he spoke. "Is not the world right, now?"

"How could it be after all I've done?" she whispered.

"You've done what was best for everyone," Fenris reassured her, turning her cheek to let their lips meet. She softened into his arms and he pressed her back against the railing, letting their foreheads touch as he continued, "Didn't Sebastian say you've done the Maker's work? Isn't that all any of us can do?"

"He did," Hawke replied, closing her eyes as he ran his fingers into her dark hair. But how could he know, she thought. How could anyone know what their Maker deigned?

"Yet that doesn't seem enough for you," Fenris rumbled.

"Is it that obvious?"

"While I won't deny learning to read your signals took some years, I like to imagine I've gotten good at it," Fenris said with a close-lipped grin, cradling her close.

Hawke closed her eyes and leant into his arms, sighing into his neck, "It seems like after all these years, I finally have the chance to reflect and it's all catching up with me. Stay with me tonight?"

"Of course," Fenris replied.

"The Fade isn't nearly as cruel when you are near," Siobhan whispered, slipping her hand into his.

"Dreams?" Fenris asked, twirling his fingers into her shoulder-length black hair.

"With what little sleep there is to be had. Perhaps it is merely a symptom of age," Hawke replied, turning her face until his fingers graced her cheek. She sighed and squeezed his hand, "Mage or not, we all have our demons."

"Perhaps," Fenris said. He breathed deep and squeezed her hips before pulling her closer, "Tell me."

"There are so many, it seems ridiculous sometimes by the light of day. Things that... I can tell myself it is over and done - that the past is the past - but I cannot help thinking I could have changed any of it," Siobhan drew a shuddered breath, hugging her arms between them. "It goes back to Bethany - no, even further to Carver. Choices I made that let people die."

"From all you've said, you couldn't prevent your brother from stepping in that ogre's path. And it does little good to think about the Deep Roads," Fenris murmured, touching her arm. "You keep telling me not to... dwell on my past. Sound advice, isn't it?"

"You do enjoy buttering me up," Siobhan replied, looking over his shoulder. The colour was draining from her features though, the memories surfacing. The blood was on her hands, she could feel the warmth. Hear the way his breath sputtered as his lungs succumb to the fluid. His blood was on the cobbles and the sky was alight with fire. "How many people have I killed? How many were people I knew?"

"I was never under the particular impression you and Anders got along," Fenris replied more coldly.

"No, I know," Siobhan's voice softened, and she put her hands over his, and his posture relaxed. She looked at their grasp, "Is it so wrong to question one's life? Here I am at the precipice, looking over the world and what has been wrought through my actions. It is only natural to reflect."

"Indeed," Fenris said, leaning to nuzzle his cheek alongside hers. "Aveline is still waiting. When we're done what is needed for the day, we'll spar, and I'll balm your muscles."

"Always knowing the right things to say," Hawke replied sweetly, meeting his gaze. She chuckled, "Hard to resist your hands all over me."

"That's the plan," Fenris grinned, relinquishing her arm as they turned back towards the keep. Hawke's posture straightened, her features hardening as she returned to her duties.

* * *

><p><em> "Serah Hawke, it's a pleasure," Saemus Dumar said, bowing with a hand upon his breast. "I had not been sure you had received my invitation."<br>_

_"I am flattered more than I might say, messere" Siobhan replied, turning with him towards the doors. "And please, Siobhan is fine. Or Hawke - everyone seems to like that best."_

_ "I apologize," Saemus said, holding the door for her and motioning down into the keep gardens. "Perhaps I yet remain my father's son in that regard. I would not wish any impropriety. Saemus as well then."_

_ "Saemus it is," Siobhan chuckled. "I imagine your father isn't impressed that you wished to speak with me."_

_ "Admittedly, I hadn't broached the subject with him," Saemus' lips quirked. "Your family's name is like wildfire these day - what with your foray in the Deep Roads and the return of the Amells. But we have had interesting conversations."_

_ "It is rare to meet individuals more interested in talking," Siobhan said, clasping her hands together as they walked amidst the gardens. "As much as I enjoy wielding a sword, I'd gladly trade it for a book or a cup of tea and a good friend."_

_ "That is impressive," Saemus smiled absently. "Here - the starbright is blooming, and it affords a pleasant view of the city."_

_ "I'm not familiar with that," Siobhan said, cupping her hand around the brilliant white flowers to inhale the sweet scent. "Flowers in Ferelden often smelt like feet, or only bloomed one day a year it seemed."_

_ Climbing the short wall around the courtyard, they sat and looked down over the tiered port. It was mid-morning, and the sun warming the stone buildings gold._

_ "Are things improving for you here?" Hawke finally said, glancing to him. _

_ Saemus exhaled slowly, shaking his head and looking at his hands, "My father may believe so, but there is so much he refuses to see."  
><em>

_"It must be difficult to live up to your birthright," Siobhan mused, "When it seems you are drawn to a more..."_

_ "Peaceful life?" Saemus offered._

_ "Yes," Hawke smiled apologetically._

_ Saemus nodded, "I haven't given up on the qunari - quite to the contrary. Though with Ashaad gone, it has been... more difficult. But I believe we have a lot to learn."_

_ "What of your faith to the Chantry?" Siobhan frowned as she asked. _

_ "I hope the need to dedicate oneself to a faith does not supersede the desire for knowledge and understanding," Saemus furrowed his brow, glancing at her. "Don't you wish to belong? To remove all doubt and know where you are meant to be?"_

_ "I do," Siobhan slowly smiled at him, before glancing away. "I know this is where the Maker wants me to be. That my purpose is here. I will do His work."_

_ "Yet how many die by your hand, serah?" Saemus quietly asked._

* * *

><p>The citizenry moved out of the way as Hawke strode up the makeshift path towards the wooden building - the impromptu chantry she had ordered built upon the ruins of the old. So they would have a place to go, so there would be hope. They needed it to look to. Like they needed her. Fenris followed on her heels, and slipped into one of the rows inside as she continued forward.<p>

Hawke ascended to the lectern of the small building, and the people of Kirkwall packed in behind her, filling the makeshift pews and lining the back until the air was close with their bodies. She raised a hand to them and the room silenced, and she looked over the sullen faces. The bulk of the Divine's army had arrived that morning, and what was left of the Gallows had filled with their rank.

"I thought it best to reflect on the words of our Maker's most beloved - she who lost her all and found herself in a foreign land. Many of you know the same sting - many of you feel the same fear," Siobhan clearly said, but as she spoke there were shadows in her heart. "But we will find peace once more at His side."

A soft murmur of assent went through the crowd, and Siobhan's eyes roamed to Fenris, whose unwavering gaze rest on her.

"Andraste 19, verses five through seven," Siobhan said, looking down at the charred wood used in the podium.

.

_"But we who have sinned_

_ fall short in the Maker's sight._

_ By our wrongs He did turn His eye._

_._

_Righteousness comes not in man's hand_

_ but by the way of our Creator._

_ This I knew in my heart._

_._

_Know in your heart this truth,_

_ and by our lips and tongues_

_ all will know of His light,_

_ and be renewed through the Chant."_

.

Hawke bowed her head as the murmured reply traveled through the room, unable to find solace in the words that had carried her for so long. When once the Chant had been a light in her heart, a beacon when all others went out, it now rang as condemnation in her ears.

"Thank you, Viscountess," the brother beside her said, clasping his hands together and looking over the congregation, before taking her place when she stepped down to kneel at Fenris' side. Prostrate alongside the masses.

It was only afterward when she wandered amidst the former site of the chantry with Fenris that Hawke spoke again. There were workers clearing the rubble – it seemed they never made any progress.

"I received word today that the Circle in Ferelden rebelled," she quietly said.

Fenris stopped in his tracks, and she turned around, hands clasped behind her back, "What happened?"

Hawke looked skyward to where the towers and bells of the Chantry had once sung to her, "The missive I received from King Alistair indicates that violence was narrowly avoided. The Knight Commander negotiated a truce and... he granted the mages their independence."

"We cannot sit idly by when our supposed ally is letting maleficarum run amok," Fenris snapped, and he stalked further down the path. He lowered his voice when he realized the workers were staring. Hawke waved to them, offering a politic smile, and they bowed their heads before continuing their chore.

"And what do you propose I do, my love?" Hawke said, following his eyes as he shook the momentary anger from his limbs.

Fenris closed his eyes before exhaling, "I don't know."

"They are living together in peace, you know, the templars and mages," Siobhan said under her breath. "His majesty wrote of it with the highest praise. It is a school for mages now, where they can choose to go. They propose expanding the docks into a village where families can live - there's land nearby recovering from the... What?"

"And you merely believed it? I'm surprised at you, Sio," Fenris said, voice softening. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

"I thought you would like to know," Hawke shrugged, watching his lips. "Perhaps you'd rather see the letter yourself."

"No, I apologize," Fenris replied, turning her hand to kiss the palm.

"They sound much more reasonable," Hawke softly said, "Than the mages here. Less desperate to press others under their thumb..."

"Perhaps. But how long will it last? When will it not be enough?"

"Maybe it is how the Circles were intended to be," Siobhan said, and they held hands as they walked deeper amongst the ruins - nearly to where the altar used to be. "It is men who pervert the will of the Maker."

"Meredith was proof enough of that," Fenris sighed. "Will it strain relations with Ferelden?"

"I don't think it can be escaped," Hawke tiredly said. She stopped and pulled from his grasp, kneeling to brush away some of the dust and stone to retrieve something. Fenris slowly walked over, as she wiped the grime from the sheared face of a statue. "I don't think we can risk the loss of an ally. Who knows what else is coming."


	2. A Dance

_ "Serah Hawke," Viscount Dumar turned from the man he spoke with. Seneschal Bran closed the door behind Siobhan as she bowed to the noble. "Thank you for coming."_

_ "You have but ask, messere," Siobahn quietly said. "I will do anything I can."_

_ The Viscount clasped his hands together, nodding, "I am certain you know the Knight Captain, Ser Cullen?"_

_ "We have met before," Cullen replied, offering Hawke his hand. As she shook it, he grinned and said, "She has aided myself and the Order on more than one occasion."_

_ "Any able-bodied citizen would do the same given the opportunity," Siobhan said, smiling lightly._

_ "I only wish it were true," Viscount Dumar replied with a sigh._

_ "I have been fortunate, messere," Siobhan glanced to Cullen as his eyes met hers, and he looked down. "Not all are afforded the luck to work for the better of their fellow man. It is my duty."_

_ "The Maker smiles upon you, serah," Cullen interjected._

_ Hawke dropped her chin. "That is kind of you to say."_

_ "I wished to speak with you personally to inform you that Meredith granted leave for Cullen himself to take up your training," Viscount Dumar said after their exchange. "Given your station in the city, they will not expect you to take vows, but allow you to serve in a more secular capacity for my office and otherwise."_

* * *

><p>"Who will find justice for you, Siobhan?" Anders bitterly asked from where he sat beyond the end of the bed. His cheeks were sunken, features emaciated from decay to reveal the hollow of his nose as well.<p>

"The Maker alone holds my fate in His palm," Hawke replied, unable to look directly at him. It seemed no matter which way she looked; he was always there in the periphery of her vision. "Beyond this petty life."

"Petty," Anders dryly laughed. His once long, agile fingers flecked in the air, skin clinging to bone. "You know as well as I that you don't believe that anymore."

"What do you know of my beliefs, Anders?" Siobhan tiredly said. She gathered the sheet off her bed, wrapping it more tightly around her body. "You never cared to know. It was always about chaos. About hate. About vengeance. About you."

"And you?" he heatedly replied, standing in her periphery. There was no sound of his movement, no creak of the floorboards. "Was this all about Bethany?"

"Just go away," she whimpered and covered her eyes, trembling again as she lay back. Hawke's breathing shuddered as the tears came unbidden, and she broke out into a sob. She could feel the bed beneath her again, whose bed was it anyway? Certainly hers was never so big. Tangling the sheet further, she crushed her pillow as she sat up, looking around through blurry eyes.

Fenris dropped his quill onto the table, crossing from the other side of the room through the late morning light that shone in their bedroom. Hawke was rubbing her lips, her eyes closed as she sat on the side of the bed swathed in a sheet.

"Is it -" his words cut away as her bloodshot eyes opened upon him. He tread closer, but she pulled her legs up onto the bed. "A smaller portion then."

"No," Hawke croaked, struggling with her sluggish thoughts. She could scarce think but for the burning inside. If only she drank it, it was the Maker's light and it would shine through her fingertips. "I have to stop."

Fenris put his hand on top of the glass on the bedside table, before handing her the water. When she took it and drank he said, "You're going too quickly. You need to wean yourself off it more slowly."

"I don't want it anymore, Fenris," Siobhan's voice pitched, and she covered her lips, wiping the remnants of water away. It did nothing to quench the thirst. "It will destroy me, if it is not already too late. I am needed as a strong woman, a strong leader, more than..."

Exhaling Fenris cautiously sat beside her, hands on his thighs as he watched her in the periphery of his vision. "You speak sometimes. And even if I cannot make out the words, there is so much pain in your voice. I would do anything to take it away - and it seems like the only way."

Hawke's eyes invariably drew to the small vial of blue elixir he retrieved from his pocket. How did it sing to her so? She kept her mouth scrunched in her hand as they sat there, before finally whispering, "Get rid of it. Please... please get rid of it."

With a flick of his wrist, Fenris flung it out the open window, and Hawke suctioned into his embrace. He cradled her head against him, fingers in her black hair and lips upon her copper skin. She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes and resting her lips on his shoulder.

"I won't keep anymore around," Fenris said, his voice softly rumbling. "We'll do this together."

"Thank you, love," Hawke weakly whispered, kissing his shoulder.

She should smell it in his skin. Its song was much more bearable.

* * *

><p><em> "You thought you could strand them here this long without consequence?" Fenris scoffed form Hawke's side.<em>

_ "She stole the Tome of Koslun – she must return with us," the Arishok intoned as he hefted his battleaxe over his shoulder and looked down upon Hawke._

_ "And if she does, you will leave the city?" Hawke said, a quiet fury in her words._

_ "Yes. I will no longer be bound by my duty to remain," the Arishok replied._

_ "Sio, very funny," Isabela rolled her eyes. _

_ "Take her and go," Hawke said under her breath, blood going cold._

_ "Most wise," the Arishok, turned and motioned to the karasten. _

_ "Hawke, you bitch!" Isabela cried out as the qunari grabbed her, and she snapped out of their grip. "Get your hands off of me!"_

_ "You could have stopped all this!" Hawke said, her words tinged with bitterness. "You are the cause of all this death – all for your own greed. You must pay for your crimes."_

_ "We will leave, but know that we will return!" the Arishok motioned for the qunari to move, and he hesitated as they marched after the cursing pirate and out of the throne room. Appraising Hawke with a stony gaze, he said under his breath, "Perhaps you understand more of the Qun than you imagine. Panahedan, Hawke."_

* * *

><p>Fenris kept his eyes up and clasped Hawke's hand, the other at the small of her back as the musicians began to play. With sure directive, he led her through the steps, and the room of nobles followed.<p>

"Wherever did you learn to dance like this," Hawke whispered, an unstoppable smile warming her expression. It softened his in turn.

"You assume I do nothing when we are apart?" he smirked, before twirling her and parting to step and bow. Clapping their hands, they met again, and he continued with the sway of the music.

"No," Hawke said, shaking her head. "I imagine you do a many more exciting things than dancing."

"I thought it would make you smile," Fenris said, squeezing her hand, and twirling her into the crook of his arm. He pressed his lips against her cheek when she leant back into him and they side stepped into a hop as he whispered, "And I was right."

Hawke laughed, following his lead and swirling into the refrain once more, her gown swishing the ground with her steps. His eyes stayed upon her as they moved, fingers stroking the small of her back.

"It was something your advisor mentioned," Fenris said as he pulled her close once more. The room gathered and they spun as the chorus ascended into a delightful rush of energy and sound.

"Varric?" Hawke said in mild disbelieve. "Did he ask you to call him that?"

"Maybe," Fenris replied, twirling her once more as they parted, and she curtsied in kind as the song came to an end.

"Really," Hawke said, smiling brightly once more as she clapped and looked amongst her guests. It was the summer solstice, and the Viscountess' halls were filled with laughter and light for the first time since that fateful day. She pulled Fenris close and kissed his cheek, and he murmured his appreciation before she said, "I will have to find him."

Fenris seemed a little lost as Hawke squeezed his hand and walked away. The Viscountess paused to greet the nobles she met on her way up the stairs - the very stairs upon which her predecessor had lost his head. Tables of sweets and summer fruits scattered the upper level, and she was about to head for the mead to find Varric when she ran into a familiar face.

"Sebastian," Hawke said with a bright smile, shaking her head before taking her gown and curtseying, "Your Highness, where are my manners?"

"It has always been Sebastian to you, serah," Sebastian laughed, reaching for her hand to dip and kiss her dark skin. "It has taken me most of the night to catch you alone."

"As alone as one might be at a ball," Hawke replied, clasping her hands together and moving with the prince as he offered to take her arm. "I had heard you might come, but I wasn't sure you would be able to make it."

"I have neglected our friendship for too long," Sebastian said as he led them towards a nook overlooking the dancers. He pulled a small drawstring pouch from his formal jacket "I have something for you."

Opening the bag, Hawke's eyes sparkled as she pulled out the confection, "What is it?"

"A taffy they make in Starkhaven," Sebastian replied. "Do you remember me telling you about it?"

"Of course," Siobhan said, her cheeks warming despite herself. "Something your grandfather gave you as a boy." She pulled open the paper and took a bite, chewing it and smiling at him.

"Yes," Sebastian smiled and squeezed her arm. "And I remember your sweet tooth."

Hawke drew the bag closed and looped the drawstring around her wrist as she chewed the rest of the piece, "I have trouble thinking you came all this way just to bring me candy."

Sebastian laughed and leaned into her more, a slight flush on his cheeks as he cleared his throat, "While that may be reason enough, there is more, yes. But not now." He looked back up to her, taking her hand in his, "Viscountess, would you honour me with a dance?"

"Ever the gentleman," Siobhan lightly said. "How could I refuse? Of course, Your Highness."

The guests stepped aside as the powerful pair descended back to the dance floor, and the musicians finished their song, drawing applause from the dancers. One hand in the crook of her back, Sebastian took up her hand with his calloused fingers. The rebec lead in the musicians began to play, and the crowd parted to watch them dance as the music flowed into a melancholic refrain.

"It's good to see you," Hawke quietly said, keeping his gaze as they moved. It was all too easy to remember that the eyes of the room were upon them. "I have appreciated your letters and encouragement."

"The Maker knows you need it," Sebastian replied, squeezing her hand. "These are difficult times, and we must work together to see the good people of the Free Marches through it. They look to us."

"Right now more than ever," Siobhan nervously chuckled, and Sebastian smiled in reply, looking down between them.

"You are very much beloved by Kirkwall," Sebastian quietly said.

"As you are no doubt by Starkhaven," Hawke countered.

"Perhaps," the prince replied with a soft smile.

They danced a bit longer in silence, and the swelling emotion of the music echoed through the high chamber. Hawke's eyes glazed a bit as she listened.

"A dirge for the Hero of Ferelden, if I recall," Sebastian whispered, as though to answer her thoughts.

Hawke slowly nodded, her throat tightening. She looked somewhere beneath his chin as they swayed and twirled across the floor. "Merrill grew up with her - did you know that?"

Sebastian flattened his hand against her back and slowly sighed before saying, "We all choose our paths, Siobhan. It is one of the Maker's greatest gifts; free will. She will learn that through Oblivion."

"Yes," Hawke flatly replied, a shiver up her spine as the music welled.


	3. A Proposal

_"Would you join me, serah? I want to show you something," Sebastian softly said._

_ Hawke followed him beneath the bowered doorway at the back of the chantry, "Oh? What is it?"_

_ "Close your eyes," he replied with a soft chuckle. "Unless you do not trust me to lead you?"_

_ "Of course I do, Sebastian," Siobhan admonished, lifting her chin as she closed her eyes. _

_ "I just want to see you smile," came his whisper by her ear, and she made a surprised sound as his shoulder caught her stomach and he hoisted her up. _

_ Hawke flailed a bit before gripping his neck, and when she spoke her voice echoed off stone, "You – you could have warned me!"_

_ "Now, what's the fun in that?" Sebastian huffed, and she could feel him moving as she held on. "I hope you haven't opened your eyes."_

_ "Not sure I'd want to," Siobhan quietly said. She could hear his breath echoing off the stone more as they moved, and soon enough a stiff breeze caught her dark skin and billowed her hair. Set back on her feet, she wavered a bit and reached out._

_ Sebastian caught her arm to guide her, laughing only once before he said, "Alright then, fine, you can look."_

_ The subdued hues of twilight were easy on Hawke's eyes as she opened them and saw they were atop one of the chantry towers. She advanced forward to a crenel, putting her hand on the stone to look over Kirkwall. The sun was halved by the horizon and seemed to set the city on fire. She softly sighed as the wind mussed her hair._

_ "It's beautiful," Siobhan whispered._

_ "I knew you'd appreciate it," Sebastian said, leaning on the wall beside her and watching her._

_ Siobhan slowly smiled, keeping her eyes down as she said, "Thank you. Though you could have just had me walk with you, you know."_

_ "Perhaps," he replied, looking at her hands on the stone. His voice softened, "I know the weeks since the qunari left have been difficult. I just wanted to remind you there is always beauty in the world. The Maker wouldn't have it any other way. This will be worth it."_

_ "Aye," Siobhan closed her eyes, letting the ebbing breeze buffet her skin. "Beauty even in chaos, I suppose."_

_ "Have you considered what the nobles propose?" Sebastian looked down, brushing some of the grime off the stone._

_ "I don't know," Hawke chuckled slightly, glancing to him. _

_ "You would be well suited to the role of Viscountess, Siobhan," he easily said._

_ "And what about you," she replied, straightening her posture. "Will you not go to Starkhaven and become prince?"_

_ Sebastian waffled a moment before chuckling and standing alongside her, "Touché."_

_ "Thank you for being here," she suddenly said, looking up to conceal her eyes. "Fenris has… life just seems so much more complex than it needs to be."_

_ "Anything you need, Siobhan," Sebastian put his hands on hers, and she glanced away. "I will always strive to give it."_

* * *

><p>"I am glad you could join me, Siobhan," Sebastian said as they ate brunch in the atrium of his guest quarters in the keep.<p>

Hawke looked back from her distraction, reaching for a bit of pineapple, "Who knows when we will speak again next – so how could I resist?"

"Always sweeter than anyone might imagine," Sebastian chuckled, dabbing his lips before clasping his hands together and leaning on the table. A servant refilled their glasses and retrieved his plate before escaping at his dismissal. He watched Hawke eat for a moment before standing and striding to the windows. "Margrave Astor – of Ansburg – contacted me just before I came to Kirkwall."

"Oh?" Siobhan quietly said, picking at her fruit again.

"There was a riot, with the mages and templars breaking into open war in the streets."

Hawke hesitated, before putting plate down and swallowing, "Was it… as bad as here?"

"His missive was vague on the details," Sebastian sighed, shaking his head. "But they have lost the Circle. And it seems half the templars rebelled with them."

"Does the Divine know?"

"No doubt she learned of it as I did," he replied with a heavy sigh. "The trials we face are many."

"But we will remain strong," Siobhan replied as though by rote.

Sebastian's expression softened and his shoulders relaxed, "You have always come by the Chant with ease, Siobhan. That I could have found His Light as easily as it shone upon you."

Hawke averted her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she fiddled with the tablecloth, "We are all fashioned by our life. Would you not say you went through what you did for a reason?"

"Yes," Sebastian replied without hesitation, his breath wavering. "Though it does not change how I feel when I think of her grace." He touched his breast, tapping slowly as his words dragged, "It is a wound slow to heal."

"As it is for many," Siobhan said in a breath. Across the room, her mother sat with her hands clasped, eyes upon the pair as they ate. Her mother, who had nurtured her faith in the Maker more than any. Who had joined her in prayer and mass. Who had died unprotected.

"All the more reason we must keep close in the dark times ahead," Sebastian said under his breath, turning back to her. He continued to speak, unaware of how her eyes seemed to focus on the specter.

Hawke could see the stitching neatly around her neck, and her eyes had clouded and shrunk back in her face. She tore her own eyes away and took up a glass of water, a feverish sweat upon her breast. She drank deeply as Sebastian spoke, closing her eyes to the torment. They were not real. She knew they were not real.

"Siobhan," Sebastian said, coming to take a knee beside her and take up her hand. "I have cared for you a great deal these years. But even if I did not, I would propose this alliance for the good of the Free Marches. We will be stronger together."

"I beg your pardon?" Siobhan gasped in softly, dabbing the spilt water from her chin as she looked to him.

"For us to be wed would be a political union that would make Starkhaven and Kirkwall all but untouchable to the mages and their allies," Sebastian urged, squeezing her hand. He drew her up to her feet, and she followed numbly as he led to the window. "It's obvious now what Anders did in Kirkwall was the catalyst for so much more. We cannot let the darkness consume us."

Hawke swallowed thickly, before softly saying, "This is all so sudden, Sebastian."

"Of course it is," Sebastian let go of her hand, clasping his own back behind her back. There was a light flush on his cheeks as he turned, "Here, I have let myself wax romantically, when I did not even bring the ring – it is an alliance before anything else. Forgive me."

"He is a good man, Sio," Leandra said from where she sat against the wall, her voice laced with time and death.

Siobhan shivered and pressed her lips together, before donning a smile and saying to him, "I cannot rightly give you an answer without considering it for a time. You… you have the details I imagine?"

"Of course," Sebastian gushed, touching her arm again as his expression softened. "I will have my steward send them to you." He motioned back to the table, where the servant had returned with a cream pastry. "Something sweet?"

"Of course," Hawke mirrored, taking up the skirt of her dress to follow him back to the table, her thoughts carrying away in the torrent of thoughts left behind.

* * *

><p><em>Fenris lingered in the shadow of the door, closing his eyes as her voice carried across the courtyard. He had never heard her sing before – had he ever stayed long enough to listen? He could imagine her hands on the pommel of her sword, fingers round the whetstone as it ran the blade. It did something inside, and his feet moved before his thoughts caught up.<em>

_ Oblivious to the man approaching, Siobhan kept her focus on her work, honing the broadsword with deliberate, trained strokes. She flowed into another song – it gave her focus. Lifting her head briefly, she stopped and jumped a bit, "Fenris! Maker's breath…"_

_ "I apologize," he hurriedly said, stepping closer as he looked away. "I did not mean to intrude."_

_ "No, no you didn't," Hawke's voice slowly softened as she set her sword aside and licked her lips. "It's a surprise, that is all."_

_ "Yes," he simply said, and stood there a moment. Clearing his throat, he more confidently said, "I've missed our lessons."_

_ "Reading? Have you been practicing?"_

_ "I – well, I do what I can," Fenris replied, lingering closer as he slipped the small book from under his arm. "Though there are some words I cannot yet sound out."_

_ "Understandably," Hawke said, folding her hands in her lap. She looked down, "Are you… certain you want me to help you?"_

_ Fenris closed his eyes, "I don't have anyone else."_

_ "I see," Siobhan quietly said. It was more than they had said to each other in months. _

_ "I've been a fool, Siobhan," Fenris' voice cracked as he spoke and sat down on the stone bench beside her. "I've spent so much time running – so much time frightened of anything."_

_ "Frightened of me?" she softly asked._

_ "Frightened of what you do to me," Fenris said, putting his hand over hers. When she didn't recoil, he shuffled closer. "No one has ever made me feel the way you do. You believe in me. You don't see a slave or an elf, you see me – you make me want to be a better person."_

_ "You don't need me for that," she replied, chancing to look up as he took up her hand._

_ "Please forgive me," he whispered, emotion crumpling his voice. "I should have asked for it long ago. You consume my thoughts when we are apart, and I cannot think when we are together. I cannot bear the thought of this… this silence any longer."_

_ "Do you mean that?" Siobhan looked at his eyes, and he nodded. She touched her breastplate, "It has hurt so much, I thought..." She shook her head. "Does – does that mean you're staying in Kirkwall?"_

_ "So long as you are, I will be, " Fenris took up her hand. "And anywhere else, I will follow."_

* * *

><p>The shadows were long when Hawke dismissed the guards and entered their apartments at the keep, her mind still spinning with Sebastian's offer. She loosened the neck of her dress and hurried down the hall, checking rooms as she called out, "Fenris?"<p>

"I am here," came his scruffy voice from the study. He was sitting on her desk with his hand around the bottle of wine beside him, toying with some of her books. "Qunari scholars. I do not know what possesses you to read this."

Furrowing her brow, Siobhan said, "Just because they are different does not mean they have nothing to teach us."

Fenris scoffed softly and tossed the book back amidst the pile, "Is that true."

Bristling a little, Hawke clenched her hands into fists and quietly said, "What is it? It is philosophy, Fenris. You probably know more than I do."

"Did you enjoy your lunch with the prince?" he said, running his thumb around the neck of the wine.

"That's one way of putting it," Siobhan said in a breath, before putting a hand to her forehead. "Are you enjoying the wine?"

Fenris shrugged, taking another drink before putting it farther out of reach to stand up, "Well enough." His posture relaxed as he walked towards her and said, "You're upset. What is it?"

"The prince proposed an alliance between Starkhaven and Kirkwall today," Siobhan said in a rush, before subduing her voice. "He asked for my hand."

Fenris straightened as though slapped, and his mouth opened silently before he found words, "He had the audacity to ask? When he knows that you and I are together?"

"I love you more than anything, Fenris," Hawke said, a tremble in her words. "But I am the Viscountess, Kirkwall has suffered enough. I could not simply say no out of hand. I needed to see you."

"To see me," his voice cracked, and he backpedalled. He put a hand against her desk and looked sideways out the window. "To say goodbye as you turn me out to go to your duty."

"Sweet Maker no, it is nothing like tha-" Hawke raised her hands and stepped towards him.

Bristling, Fenris swiped the books off her desk and stalked out of her reach, and his voice shook, "After all we've been through together, I'm just an elf in the end, aren't I. How can I match the Prince of Starkhaven, after all? It is why he came here."

"Fenris, please," Siobhan said as he spun to look at her again. She was numb to her toes. "I had no idea he was going to ask. I just… I'm sorry, I need you…"

"Right," Fenris' voice rumbled deeper, and he closed his eyes, unable to look at her as the wine burned in his veins. Clenching his hands into fists, he shook his head and made for the door.

"Fenris, we'll speak of it when you're sober," Siobhan hurriedly said as she tripped over the spilled books. She snagged one of his arms, "Please don't go!"

Stopping in the doorway, Fenris' muscles tensed and he tore his arm away. Eyes averted, he clenched his fists again before taking off down the hall.


	4. A Path

_ 'Asit tal-eb. It is to be._

_ Open your eyes and see the path your feet are meant to walk upon. _

.

The ocean might serve as an analogy for those who live by the Qun and its teachings: vast, immutable, eternal. The kabethari struggle against the sea, thinking they can resist, and fighting what they are meant to be. Fish struggling in the air, seeking to affect the world around them and abandon their true purpose. One who swims in the school is protected. There is no thought as to purpose, for it is simply known.

Through this knowledge, order and simplification are found. An unspoken cadence that allows lost footsteps to find and join the dance. The thought of losing individuality is no doubt what drives many of the conquered lands to resist and find death in the face of this conversion.

Malice, greed, avarice; to the Qunari, these are constructs of the bas. They have no place in the qunari lands, and they are not tolerated. Some might consider this totalitarian, but perspective can be almost impossible to gain. Those of the Qun wish all others to know it, those who have left it are considered without purpose, and will undoubtedly view it with discrimination.'

.

Siobhan kept her mouth on the back of her hand as she read, her mabari asleep against her hip. He'd given over to it when her tears had dried to his satisfaction. She leant to light another candle as a few burnt low, unwilling to surrender to the night just yet. It didn't matter if she needed sleep or if she was tired of trying to decide right or wrong - of moving the chess pieces and trying to find the best place…

He hadn't returned yet. Somehow he was allowed the luxury of absence.

Hawke closed her eyes and creased her fingers down the spine of the book. While the reading calmed her, it wasn't in the way most might expect. Looking at the bust of her armour across the room, there was a flutter in her heart, and it made her stomach flip at the prospect.

She'd wait till morning. Isn't that what they said? See what you think come morning?

* * *

><p>It was mid-afternoon before Fenris tucked his tail and returned to the Keep. He had spent the night in the Amell estate, half drunk and silent by the fire. He felt like a fool. He hadn't given her a chance to explain anything. The jealous ire burnt as he thought of Sebastian again, bypassing the main chambers and heading for their apartments.<p>

The man was near perfect: soft-spoken, wealthy, agile, attractive, and devout. Perhaps that was where he was truly the fool – believing in his heart that she wasn't going to take the political alliance. That is what it would be. Nothing more than an alliance.

Fenris paused, his hand upon the door to their quarters. No doubt, they would produce the most beautiful children. Shaking his head, he swallowed the thoughts and straightened up.

"Siobhan?"

Sun shone through the high southern windows as he wandered the silent corridors and rooms. He ran into a young woman he recognized as their maid – a human, he couldn't deny the thrill it aroused – and Fenris stopped her.

"Where is your mistress?"

The maid curtsied and replied, "I have not seen the Viscountess since yesterday, messere."

"Is there court today?"

"No, messere," she hurriedly said, tucking her chin down. "I received word all appointments had been cancelled."

A flicker of panic rose in Fenris' chest, and he glanced out the window as he chanced to ask, "Is the Prince still in the guest quarters?"

"His highness left last night, ser," the maid said, clasping her hands together as she waited expectantly.

"Leave." The maid jumped and scurried away at his gruffness.

Fenris moved with fury through their bedroom, heart panging in his chest as he saw things missing: her mother's locket, her travelling satchel. Bursting into the study, he saw the books gone from her desk, but it wasn't until his eyes turned to the stand that the warmth drained from him.

"No," he mumbled and scurried to the table there, flipping back the leather runner to find her scabbard and broadsword just as absent as her armour. He gripped the edge of the table, staring at the implication.

She'd left him. He'd walked out in his anger, and she'd left him for that damned Chantry boy.

Coiling his fingers into a tight fist, Fenris snagged the armour stand with the other hand and pitched it across the room, hitting Hawke's desk and scattering the papers that remained. He closed his eyes, feeling the brands on his skin well with the rush of pain inside.

It didn't matter anymore.

Turning before he could dismantle the room, Fenris slammed the door open and abandoned the keep, servants and guards shrinking away as he finally hurried down the steps into Hightown.

It was dark when he finally stalked into the Hanged Man and found his way to Varric's suite.

"Well, if it isn't the Broody lover of the Viscountess," Varric said as he slipped the eyeglasses off his nose and marked his place in the book he was been writing in. He rapped his fingers on the leather, smiling broadly. "Didn't think you frequented my sort of disreputable establishments anymore."

"Took me a while to learn it's where I belong," Fenris spat, stalking into the room and shutting the door behind him.

"I see," Varric slid the book aside and cleared his throat. "Care for a seat? A game of Wicked Grace?"

"Just pour the sodding drink," Fenris said as he turned back and slumped down into the chair beside him.

* * *

><p><em> "You don't have to be here, Fenris," Siobhan whispered in a threadbare voice. Sitting in the corner of the Hanged Man, she watched the ground somewhere amidst the other drunken lowlifes.<em>

_ Shifting his jaw, the elf looked down and it was a moment before he ruminated, "Varric mentioned you were here. And Aveline is worried, but she cannot abandon her shift."_

_ "Oh," Hawke softly said. She tightened her gauntlet-clad hand around the glass of ale before choking most of it back. _

_ "Here," Fenris took the glass and stood up, "I'll get us more."_

_ When he returned with four pints, they sat in silence and drank, watching the night progress as patrons came and went. A group of minstrels began to play on the other side of the room after a fight was put down, and all the while Hawke seemed unable to focus on any of it._

_ "Mother won't even look at me, you know," Siobhan finally said under her breath, heavily slouched in her chair. There was a slight slur in her words. "She cries. It wakes me in the night. I've tried to take her to the chantry, I just..."_

_ Shifting uncomfortably, Fenris looked into his glass and said, "I'm sorry, Hawke. I've meant to say it. You deserve to hear it from me."_

_ "I should have done it," Siobhan said under her breath, shaking her head. "Is this what Aveline felt?"_

_ "You don't want that memory," Fenris replied, furrowing his brow. "To always carry it with you."_

_ "So knowledgeable about memories now?" Hawke snorted softly, leaning against him. The elf stiffened slightly, but she seemed unaware of her effect. "Thank you for doing it. I mean that. Losing Carver was one thing but Beth... sweet Maker Bethany." She put the back of her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. "She is at the Maker's side. Blessed Andraste, let her be in Your light."_

_ Fenris drew a deep breath and put his hand on hers as he said, "Perhaps that is the comfort one must seek."_

* * *

><p>It had been years since she had been alone. There was always someone there to fill the space.<p>

"You're not alone, sister," Bethany quietly said from where she sat in the dark.

Hawke shuddered and wrapped the cloak around herself more tightly, refusing to answer. The bedroll beneath her was hard and unforgiving.

"It's alright, Sio," Bethany said, looking at her shrunken hands. Her eye sockets were deep and rimmed in red, and there were dark splotches on her skin. "I don't mind the quiet. You get used to it after a while."

"Please stop," Siobhan whispered, unwilling to lift her eyes from the fire.

"I don't think you can ask that," Bethany coldly said. "Would you have done it if Fenris hadn't put me down in the Deep Roads? Would you have killed me too?" When Hawke didn't reply, the spectre's voice grew mocking, "I'm sure mother would have just loved it. Condemning your own family like that, you might well have denounced your name too."

"Stop it," Siobhan said more firmly, swallowing the burning ache in her blood. "Mother was killed by your kind, so don't bloody well preach to me."

"No," Bethany said as she stood up, disappearing in the dark. "Preaching was always your job."

Standing up, Hawke kicked the dirt into her fire and the flames flickered and hissed. She looked into the dark and stalked away from the source of light, the shrubs and grasses swishing against her boots. Rubbing her chin, she finally came back to the flames and said, "I'm not like that anymore, Bethany. I couldn't... I ..."

There was no answer in the shadows, and Siobhan turned to kick more dirt on the fire until it was smouldering embers. Laying in the dark, she listened to the quiet progression of night-time insects and gradually slipped into a restless sleep.


	5. A Drink

Hawke walked briskly along the northern road, keeping a steady hand upon her hilt - even if her thoughts wandered with the gnaw of need and the ghosts of her past. She knew better than to pay them heed, but without listening to the voices of her withdrawal, she found her own thoughts instead. And how she had turned her back on everything.

When she stopped for water beside a brook that evening, the quiet was broken by fleeting cries. Standing, Siobhan put a hand upon her sword, squinting through the trees. In scarce a moment, a behemoth black bear burst out, with a pair of riders on its back. Upon seeing her, the creature halted and peddled in place.

"Just go!" The woman rider cried, looking back through the trees.

"No," the man said, and he grabbed a scruff of the bear's neck as he got off, eyes burning as he stared down Hawke. "I know you. You of all people."

A low roar issued in the bear's throat.

"I will brook no threat, be on your way," Hawke said as she drew her sword and stepped back into stance.

"No," the man said, eyes cold. "No tolerance at all. It's the Champion, Melody."

"You did all of this!" The woman cried, taking up a short staff alongside her companion.

"You killed my brother," the man said, as he pulled his staff as well. "You killed everyone I know."

"I gave the mages a chance for mercy," Siobhan harshly said, tightening her grip on the broadsword. "Many submitted and were spared. You were given the chance to surrender."

"Bullshit," the man spat, and in the next moment the bear leapt at Siobhan.

Hawke steeled the blade and rolled with the massive black beast, and soon she was pinned to the ground. It swiped her armour, claws screeching over the metal, and she cried out as a flash of lightning pegged the ground around them. The pain jerked her limbs, but the bear was disorientated too, and she threw it off.

"Here!" A voice cried through the copse of trees.

"Savi! The templars!" The woman cried, and the bear turned its head to lumber back towards her.

The male mage swung his staff, and Hawke shouldered the blast of magical energy. Clasping her hands together, Siobhan summoned the will, draining herself deep before releasing it with a sharp cry, and the wave of energy smote the mages down. The bear's roar wavered as it stumbled and diminished, until an elven woman was left panting for air on the ground.

"No, no," the other lady mage groaned, struggling on her hands and knees to her friend. "No, please."

"You will stay on your hands and submit," Siobhan said without thought, a twist of anger in her gut. "Corrupt things, how many did you kill in your escape? Do not paint the blame solely upon me."

"I won't let you take us back there!" choked the man, struggling back to his feet. As he roused the mana, Hawke shook her head and advanced. He deflected her swipe with his staff, before striking a fire at her feet. It heated her armour, but she grit her teeth and turned, fluidly lopping his head to the ground.

As the man's neck spurted and stained the ground, the templars found the riverside. The other two mages met their end on their blades. Hawke kept hold of her broadsword as they checked to ensure the mages were dead, and the lead templar advanced towards her.

"The Maker smiles upon us indeed," he said, pulling off his helm. He motioned to the other three men before taking a knee. "Had we known you traveled to hunt the mages, Champion, I would have pledged my service to you from the start."

"Do not kneel before your equals," Siobhan quietly said, swallowing the strain in her gut. "I am merely a woman."

"Hardly," the man said as he stood again. He smiled amidst the short-trimmed, dark beard on his chin. "I am Ser Kinsley, once stationed at the Gallows. What could have been a dark end was raised into His light the day the Knight-Commander fell – only because of you, messere."

"Well met," she evenly said, taking his hand. Her senses blurred a moment, and he tightened his grip.

"Ser, she's injured," another of the templars caught her arm.

"Just a scratch," Hawke chuckled, steeling herself to stand as she became aware of the throb down her side. "I've seen worse, believe me."

"We'll make camp," Ser Kinsley ordered, before saying to the man holding her. "Make sure the bodies have their rites." He took Hawke's weight even as she shook it off, "I'll have a look, you're bleeding too much to risk it. We've some poultices and bandages. Besides, from the look in your eyes, you need to rest."

"I'm not certain what you're speaking of," Hawke murmured as she reluctantly eased to the ground.

"When did you last have your ration?" he said under his breath as he unbuckled her chestplate. He furrowed his brow and unlaced the chain-linked under shirt. "I'll have to stitch it."

"Nothing new," Hawke said under her breath as she cringed and laid her head on the ground.

"We've plenty," Ser Kinsley said, taking the satchel one of the other templars brought him. Nearby, they gathered the bodies of the mages some ways from the river, piling them with gathered kindling before setting them alight. He doused the wound to clean it before sitting on his hip and tugging a vial from his belt. "You'll feel better. Especially after a fight like that."

Siobhan's dilated eyes focused on the hazy blue glow, before she palmed the vial and took a mouthful. Lying back on the ground, she let her arm fall as the elixir numbed down her throat and chased away the demons. Licking her lips, she kept her eyes closed and whispered, "Thank you."

"We are kin in our duty," Ser Kinsley replied, squeezing her shoulder. "I'll try to make this quick."

* * *

><p><em> "Fenris?" Hawke's voice echoed through the dark mansion, and she dropped her hood as she walked deeper in. Up the stairs, she saw the flicker of the fire from his favoured room. Walking up the stairs, she drew her hand back as from the dusty railing.<em>

_ There was a flicker of shadow and thump, followed by the collapse of ash and crackle of flame as Siobhan stepped into the doorway. Even with the fire, the room was cool from the winter wind blowing outside - well, for any non-Ferelden, she imagined. Her eyes drew to where Fenris sat in the chair by the fire._

_ "Fenris?" she asked, before putting a hand over her mouth. _

_ The elf's eyes were closed, and he was slouched in the ratty chair. His arm hung off the armrest, and a pewter cup lay on the floor, a small smatter of red wine spilt on the carpet. His mouth was half-open, and his breaths dragged deep and slow._

_ Siobhan walked as quietly as she could to close the open window letting in the cold. Glancing back to make sure he still slept, she searched about for a blanket. Unable to find any without holes or peculiar smells, she unclipped her cloak and crept close to him to tuck it around his shoulders._

_ Back in the streets of Hightown, Varric and Sebastian turned as she closed the door to the mansion behind her._

_ "No Broody?"_

_ "No," Hawke quietly said, the wind kicking up the back of her hair. "Not today."_

* * *

><p>"Just deal," Fenris said as he sat at the table with Varric, another dwarf, and two dogs.<p>

"You know," the bearded dwarf said as he shuffled the cards. "Maybe you wouldn't be losing to terriers if you went easy on the drink."

"But he wouldn't nearly live up to his name," Varric replied, eyes sparkling. "I don't mind the losing so much."

"Does he really have to play with us?" Fenris murmured, lifting his goblet to drink deep.

"Afraid you've scared off most of the other regulars," Varric smirked, eyeing the elf. "Even if you're the worst of us."

"Wasn't Donnic supposed to join us?"

Varric shrugged, when there was a loud knock at the door and he got up. "Maybe that's him." Sauntering over to the door, he opened it and was immediately clutched in a gauntlet's grasp.

"Where is he?" Aveline hissed, tugging him up by his coat.

"Aveline, what a plea-" Varric said with a grin, before she pushed him back and smacked her way in. "By all means, come in."

"You," she said as she marched towards Fenris. "Is this where you've been hiding?"

"I hadn't realized I was required to advertise my whereabouts."

"I take it Donnic's not joining us?" Varric lightheartedly said.

"Shut it," Aveline snapped, before advancing to the table and smacking her hands down. "Where is she? It's one thing for you to fall off the map, but Hawke doesn't have that luxury."

"Why don't you ask the Prince of Starkhaven?" Fenris said, sitting up further in his chair. He scarce looked as the bearded dwarf edged out of his chair and waved to Varric before escaping out the door, the two dogs hot on his heels.

"Sebastian? What has he got to do with any of it?"

Fenris rubbed his mouth, turning his reddened eyes to her as he said, "I suppose the announcement hasn't been made yet? Of their impending nuptials?"

Aveline furrowed her brow and bridged a hand over her forehead as she said, "Are you completely off your rocker? Hawke. And Sebastian."

"Isn't it picture perfect?" Fenris mumbled. "An alliance to save us all from the mages. She could scarce contain her excitement and promptly disappeared to join him in the north."

"It," Aveline took a step back, putting her hands on her hips. She looked to Varric who shrugged, before she said, "It doesn't make sense, Fenris. She wouldn't do that."

"Funny, I used to think the same thing," Fenris coldly said, drinking the rest of his goblet before tossing it across the room.

Varric sighed, "Do you see what I've had to deal with?"

"I hadn't realized I was such a burden," Fenris got up and swayed as he turned towards the door. When Aveline caught him, he pulled away and grabbed the wall.

Aveline grumbled before she said, "Enough of a pity party. I've been looking for you for days. Sebastian sent the guard out looking for Hawke."

"See? Further proof," the elf replied, closing his eyes at the burn of anger in his chest.

"Yes, because him having no idea where she is proves anything!" Aveline made an aggravated sound. "You're coming home with me. You can sober up there before going to explain to the Prince of Starkhaven why the Viscountess of Kirkwall missed their military negotiations."

"What?"

"Oh, did you miss that in your drunken haze the past fortnight?" Aveline narrowed her eyes as she marched him towards the door. "Or did you think only you fall apart without her?"

"I… I have to get to the keep," Fenris blurted, stumbling as she led him into the street. Grabbing the archway of the door, he pitched as his head spun and vomited on the cobbles.

Aveline skirted back and closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose as she held Fenris arm. Slowly she said, "In the morning. We'll go first thing in the morning, before you do something else you regret."


	6. An Out

"It's good to see you awake. I think the fever's finally broken."

Siobhan hugged the blanket around herself as she sat hunched by the fire with Ser Kinsley. "Thank you for taking care of me. I hope I didn't cause troubles for you."

"Not at all. We've been patrolling the coast and roads between Kirkwall and Cumberland. They needed a break." Ser Kinsley said as he looked into the twilit sky. He toyed with the Chantry symbol he wore around his neck. "It seems odd you would be out tracking on your own."

Siobhan shifted, cringing at the pain in her side. She drew a careful breath before saying, "My party was unfortunately lost."

Kinsley pressed his lips together before clasping his hands. "They have gone to the Maker's side, where they will feel no pain and know no suffering."

"In His light," Hawke quietly replied, a chill settling in her gut. Clearing her throat, she added, "So I am continuing on to Cumberland. I have business I must conclude there."

"Kirkwall is a bit closer - if you had gotten turned around."

"I am aware of that, thank you ser," Siobhan said with a thin smile.

"My apologies," Kinsley replied, leaning to turn the fire and add more wood. "I had heard rumours you were appointed Viscountess. We have been on the road since the riot in the Gallows… I suppose it isn't true."

"No." Hawke looked at her hands before tugging the blanket under her chin. "Kirkwall will find itself a better champion to guide it to safe harbour."

Kinsley slowly nodded and said, "We are tested in this. We have not dedicated enough time to the Chant and Her word. As if that were not apparent enough with the qunari..." He slowly sighed before retrieving some dried meat from his things. "Here. I hadn't been able to get you to eat."

"Thank you," Siobhan said before sucking on its salty sinew.

"Buissard will be taking over the watch soon," Kinsley quietly said as he looked at the sky. The stars were out and a sliver of a moon showed. He smiled tiredly at her before nodding. "In the morning. There's always the light of morning for more talk."

"Rest well, ser," Hawke said, as he rose to wake another of the templars and take his place. They both sat in silence for some time, the fire dying down as he watched the riverbank.

"Eh, you will be alright?" he asked and stood, motioning into the bushes. "Nature calls."

"By all means," Hawke lightly said, nodding and tugging the blanket up to her chin.

It was dawn before they noticed she was gone.

* * *

><p><em>"Where do you think you're going?" Siobhan said, catching Carver's shoulder.<em>

_"Didn't you hear the templars talking in the chantry yard? You were there," he replied, pulling his coat on and shrugging her hand. "They're tracking darkspawn in the south – the bann needs any able men for King Cailan's army."_

_"Running off to war in the middle of the night?" Hawke frowned. "You think I'd let that happen?"_

_"Let me?" Carver bristled, snatching his belt and strapping it around his waist. He spoke in a heated whisper. "It isn't your choice, Sio."_

_"Keep your voice down," Hawke whispered, grabbing his bag and pushing him outside into the moonlight. She sighed and crossed her arms. "You're barely 18."_

_"And I can already wield a sword better than you," he countered, snatching the pack from her grasp._

_"Well, maybe as good as," Siobhan replied with a smirk._

_ Carver huffed and looked across Lothering, "Thanks, sister. You must think I'm eager to just loaf about here in your shadow for the rest of my life."_

_ "Not really.__" Hawke tilted her head, looking at him. "But I do expect you to tell mother that you're marching to war to protect your older sister from the darkspawn."_

* * *

><p>"Is that it Sio? Just running away?"<p>

Hawke walked with the blanket over her head as it rained on the rocky hillside. Her pace was stilted by the wound in her side. It was enflamed again, and ached with every breath.

"I'm surprised at you," Carver said under his breath, easily following beside her with long strides. There was a bloody and black gash down the side of his head, and his neck rested upright, but at an unhealthy angle. "You were always the polite one. So proper and righteous."

Shaking her head, Siobhan let her empty eyes drop. Days. She had drank it for days. When things had finally begun to look better. When she thought she would do alright. The wind blew the rain in sheets, and she clamped her jaw shut to keep from shuddering. There was something cleansing about the cold, though.

"Fine then," Carver said, crossing his arms. "I can play this game. Got good at it all those years, you know."

"What do you want from me?" Siobhan finally stammered. When she opened her mouth to the rain, the drops seemed like sawdust.

"I dunno," Carver sighed, swaying his arms. "Did you think about how they picked my bones? That templar's too. When you left us there."

"Bethany set you aflame," Hawke shuddered, and turned off the road towards a dilapidated building.

"Didn't take right," he shrugged. "And darkspawn will eat anything."

"Shut up," Siobhan snapped in a whisper, shaking her head and hurrying into the shelter of the half-broken hut. She threw off the blanket and sank into what little cover there was. Carver didn't seem to mind the rain.

"Right," he snorted, "haven't heard that one before."

Kneeling in the shelter, Siobhan put her hands on her knees and dipped her head.

_My feet upon the path, this is the choice in where I walk. Through it I become my path, and it will lead me._

"What are you doing?

_Without resistance, through my persistence. I am a vessel to be filled, and it is my water. Lead me to be found. Lead me to my nature and show me the will of the Qun. _

"You had to stay and help at the chantry," he said, looking back over the barren hills. "Do you ever think that if we'd left when I wanted to that I'd still be alive?"

Cringing in her meditation, Siobhan opened her eyes. Water was trickling on the ground around her knees. Carver cast no shadow beneath the muted, overcast sky.

"All the time," she softly said.

* * *

><p>"<em>You speak their language," Siob<em>_han said as they walked by the docks, away from the qunari compound._

"_Yes," Fenris simply said, before he continued under her inquisitive gaze, "Though I knew basic phrases__ before, I learned more of it during my time in Seheron."_

"_Rather useful," she quietly said, looking up to the sky. "You never really heard much about them in Ferelden. Books on the most rudimentary subjects were difficult to obtain, let alone ones about horned men from far away lands. Least, not outside of Chantry sermons."_

"_No doubt," Fenris quietly chuckled, keeping his eyes down._

"_It's fascinating to think people might doubt the Maker," Hawke continued as they walked. Aveline and Varric meandered up the steps ahead of them. "My father often joked my curiosity would be the end of me, especially if the reverend mother found out."_

"_He was a mage, yes?"_

_Hawke nodded, glancing to the elf._

"_And he had no quarrel with you worshipping in the Chantry?"_

"_No, not at all," Siobhan said and tilted her head. "Why would he?"_

"_For how they treat mages. Isn't that what Anders goes on about? The Circles and the Chantry, and all the way mages are wronged?" Fenris said with unveiled disdain._

"_My father was one of the most devout people I knew," Hawke quietly said, stopping to look at something in a market stall. _

"_Yet he escaped the Circle and circumvented their will?"_

_Siobhan furrowed her brow, putting the bowl down to continue on. Fenris lingered before catching up to her. It was a moment before she said, "Would it be better if I weren't alive? If he had never fell in love with my mother and escaped to Ferelden?"_

"_I hadn't meant that," he replied._

"_I know," Hawke softly said. She touched her chest. "I pray that he is at the Maker's side. He did not glorify the fact that he or Bethany were mages. I pray that he is forgiven for the trespass in light of all the good he did. For my mother. For his children. His heart was in the right place, he raised us in the Chant, and I believe that is what the blessed Andraste would have wanted."_

"_Perhaps," Fenris said, and they continued on._

* * *

><p>Dawn was barely breaking through the windows as Fenris turned over their apartments at the keep. Their bedroom was in disarray, when one of the servants hesitated in the doorway. He spun on her before stopping short and swallowing the restless dread that had kept him turning.<p>

"You," he said, tossing down the books he rifled through. "Laryn, yes?"

"Yes, messere," she said, bowing her head to curtsey as he stood up.

"Have you cleaned here since Hawke left? Where are her things? The library – where are her papers?"

"My son did, ser," she said and motioned down the hall, before he followed her back to the library. She hid her frustration at its state, and shook her head as she advanced to the shelves alongside the window. "My mistress appreciates the organizational system I use for her work and private writing."

"What is newest?"T

"Here," she motioned, before flipping through a few parchments, "to here."

"Leave me," Fenris snapped as he pulled one of the ledgers out. He flipped through the pages in a flurry, a burning frustration growing in his chest as he struggled to read her writing. He pushed it aside before pulling out an armful of scrolls and parchment.

"He's here," Aveline sighed as she stopped just inside the door.

"Fenris, well met," Sebastian advanced into the room, his footsteps stilting as the elf continued to flip. "I've been looking for you. I'm worried about Hawke."

"I will worry enough for all of us," he replied, lifting open a scroll before throwing it aside. Aveline sighed.

Sebastian cleared his throat and said, "She is an important person very dear to many people. When did you last see her?"

Gripping the edge of the desk, Fenris stopped as he looked down at the table, scarce able to swallow his ire. "After her dinner with you. When you had the gall to ask the woman I love to marry you."

"We are servants of the people, I only want what is best for the Free Mar-"

"Quiet," Fenris snapped, standing up to look at him. "You acted like a friend to both of us, like I was an equal."

"And she turned down my offer, Fenris!" Sebastian finally said, waving a hand. "I left that night to return to Starkhaven, and I haven't heard from Siobhan since. I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to ask, and an insult to you. I just wanted what is best for my city and yours."

"What is best is entirely subjective," Fenris scoffed. It was then he saw his own name upon an envelope on the table, tucked amidst the papers and scrolls. He snagged it and tore open the wax seal, before pulling out the letter.

"Is it from her?" Aveline tentatively said as he read.

Staring blankly at her familiar cursive, Fenris' stomach turned and sank, leaving him numb. He had to clear his throat to find his voice as he quietly said, "She's gone to Cumberland. To catch ship to Kont-arr..."

"But that's a... flames, Hawke," Aveline sighed, hands on her hip.

"Siobhan must be in a dark place to turn from the Maker's light," Sebastian said, expression lost. "That she would do this... she has turned her back on all of us. On Kirkwall, and the blessed Andraste."

Fenris stared at the letter, Sebastian's words blurring in his ears. He turned away without a word, and Aveline caught his arm.

"You couldn't have known, Fenris," she said, letting go as he stopped.

"That is easy enough to say," he replied, glancing to the loop and swirl of her familiar writing once more. He swallowed thickly before saying, "I lost her once because of something I did. I won't lose her again."

"Wait," Aveline said as he stalked into the hall. "Do you really think I'll let you just run off after her?"

"Do you think you could stop me?" Fenris glanced back to her.

"I will come," Sebastian said, "for the part I played."

"You've done enough," Fenris snapped, bristling as he looked at the letter again and frowned. "I have to do this myself."

"Not bloody likely," Aveline said and she followed him.


	7. A Loss

"Clear the road," Siobhan evenly said, standing in the road with her hands up. "I have no quarrel with you."

"Then hand over your purse, and we'll kindly let you on your way," the bandit replied with a cursory nod.

"Leave me," Hawke threatened, shaking her head. "Now."

When a flask burst at her feet, Hawke dodged, holding her breath as she drew her sword and fluidly sliced through one of her attackers. He screamed as her enchanted blade froze and split his skin in the same moment, and he floundered to the ground as she stepped across to deflect another attacker. A wave of dizziness washed through her as she stole a breath, and she took an arrow in the leg before she charged and hewed the other bandits to pieces.

Siobhan stood over the bodies as she gasped for breath, looking to where the arrow stuck out the side of her thigh.

"Certainly would be handy to have a mage around, mm?" Anders said from where he leaned against a tree at the side of the road.

Ignoring the spectre, Hawke broke off the shaft and kneeled on her good leg by the bandits. She tore through their belongings, cannibalizing one of their satchels to fill with goods. She ripped the tunic of one man who was less bloodied than the rest, before hauling to her feet moving some yards away from the weep of blood. Sitting down, she tore off her greave to get at the raw, bloody gash where the arrow was embedded.

"Wouldn't be the first arrow I'd pulled from your bloody hide," Anders bitterly said. "But I did it. I never heard you complain about the level of my skill."

Hawke looked at the gash, trembling a bit from the pain. She flexed her thigh and jerked in pain, dropping an elixir and poultice out of her bag.

"Almost hit the bone I bet, lucky it's not a break," Anders casually said, glancing at her, his arms still crossed.

Gritting her teeth, Siobhan shook her head and flecked a small hunting knife from her boot. She peeled up the edge of the arrowhead and cried out as it welled with blood. It seemed enough though, and she caught the remaining bit of shaft and pulled it out. Grabbing the poultice as the gash ran red, Hawke smeared it over the wound with shaking hands. She lay back on the ground as a wash of dizziness ran through her, staring at the sky as she fumbled to down the elixir. It took the edge off the pain, and she could smell the hiss of the poultice on the wound.

"Maybe you won't die," Anders said, tilting his head to look at it. "But if you do, it won't mean a thing. A pointless death."

Siobhan closed her eyes, trembling on the ground as she still held the poultice and struggled to slow her breathing. Finally gathering the strength, she sat up and wrapped her leg in the ripped tunic.

* * *

><p><em>Anders <em>_was leaning on a crate by the docks as Hawke disembarked the ferry from the Gallows. He crossed his arms as he stood up and fell into stride with her. "Off helping Meredith again? Is that going to be me someday, Hawke? Led into the templars' waiting hands?"_

_ "No," Hawke said under her breath, glancing across the quay. "You would not be a Circle mage again, Anders."_

_ "No," he conceded, walking with her, "I'd be lucky to be made Tranquil instead of just killed outright."_

_ Siobhan didn't reply as they took a set of stairs, and she stretched her hand as she cast a cursory glance at the statue of herself in the harbour. "What do you want?"_

_ "Other than to convince you that the work you're doing is wrong?" Anders flippantly said, and he shook his head as they stopped in the shadow of the monument. He inhaled deeply and dropped his hands at his sides before saying, "Would you go to the chantry with me?"_

_ "The chantry," Hawke said and narrowed her eyes. "Why would you want to go there?"_

_ "I'm a repentant sinner." Anders lightly said. Siobhan frowned. He sighed and looked away. "Look, could you just speak with the grand cleric while I do something?"_

_ "While you do what?"_

_ "You don't want to know," he quietly said._

_ Hawke's cheek twitched and she took a step towards him, "I cannot do things like that, Anders. You can't ask things like that of your friends."_

_ "Friends," he emptily said. _

_ Hawke looked across the square and raised a hand as she saw Fenris. Her expression lightened, and she touched Anders' arm. "You must find your own strength at the Chantry. You must depend on yourself to find your way to His light."_

_ "You believe that, don't you," Anders quietly said, and when he looked away, it deepened the shadows under his eyes._

_ "I do," she replied, patting his arm and turning to go._

_ "Why haven't you done it, Hawke?" he hurriedly said, furrowing his brow. _

_ "I'm a templar for a reason, Anders," Hawke replied, scarce looking over her shoulder. "Don't ask me more than that."_

* * *

><p>"Thank you for coming," Fenris said as they sat in relative quiet on the side of the road. Nearby, the merchant caravan they travelled with was watering their horses.<p>

"And miss the story?" Varric arched his brow and stoked the fire. "Messere, I would never."

"You aren't the only one who cares for her, you know," Aveline said, lashing the last bit of her armour on as she sighed. She looked at the sky. "I don't know what I would have done without Siobhan all these years. The thought that I might never see her again..."

"Let's not get our heads into that lovely little place," Varric grumbled, drinking from his skein before passing it to her. "Besides, you've got me on your side."

Fenris chuckled emptily, tearing a bit of dried meat before popping it in his mouth. He chewed a while before saying, "I should have seen it coming."  
>"Chantry Boy should have kept his damned mouth shut, that's what," Varric sighed, linking his fingers together and leaning back against his pack. He crossed one leg over the other.<p>

"You couldn't know, Fenris," Aveline quietly said. "If life with Hawke has taught me anything, it's not to think I have any idea who might do what."

Varric snorted and sunk further, closing his eyes in the afternoon sun. "Wake me when we're going to move again."

Back on the road, Fenris slouched in the back of the cart they travelled in, a book of poorly bound parchment in his lap. It was filled with Siobhan's neat handwriting - letters she had given him, things she had written when he had walked out on her the first time. She'd kept the lot, and when he had learned how to read well enough, they had become a treasure trove of her love.

_'I don't think you often see it, but you are more than just physically strong, Fenris. Even if you have turned away from what we had because of the pain it inflicted, there is no shame in knowing what ills you and keeping yourself from it. It is better than sticking your hand in the fire.'_

Fenris' gaze shifted to the hillside, the cart bumping along on the road as the gnaw of raw emotion inside chased his ration away. Isn't that what she had done this time? Saved herself? What had any of them done to appreciate the sacrifices she made and the time she spent picking up the pieces of Kirkwall?

The air trembled with a distant roar, and a call went up from the driver at the head of the caravan. From atop the hill alongside the road, a herd of cattle stampeded in a panic, and soon enough they were launching themselves through the meagre wooden fence alongside the road.

"What's happening?" he said, sitting up more as Varric and Aveline scrambled up alongside him.

"I've never seen anything like that," Aveline said, and she braced as the cattle swarmed around the carts. The horses spooked, and the merchants vainly tried to bring them under control. There was another roar, and the trio looked to where the cattle had come from.

"Sounds like that shouldn't be familiar," Varric muttered, gripping the cart as the horse bucked. "Why does it sound familiar?"

The merchants were shouting as the head of a drake appeared over the hill, and the massive beast lumbered at top notch after the cattle. The head cart tumbled as its horse reared and broke free, while the drake descended upon the others.

"Shit!" Varric screamed as Fenris grabbed his coat, and flung him onto the road, and Aveline followed as the foot of the drake crushed the cart. The lizard caught a trapped horse in its jaws and shook its head, killing it with a spray of blood. The merchants scrambled out of the way, exposed on the rocky, dry hillside. With another roar, the drake knocked a cart and caught another horse in its maw.

"Varric!" Aveline hissed as she saw the dwarf gaining distance. "Get your arse back here!"

"I'd rather not be on the menu, thanks," the dwarf replied, Bianca already in hand. "Let's escape before it gets a taste for our blood."

"We're not just abandoning them!" Fenris said, and drew his sword.

"Did you hit your head on the way down, or did you forget we don't have a mage to piece us back together anymore," Varric said, hurrying back a few paces as he loaded the crossbow.

"Damn it," Aveline said, catching Fenris' arm as he made to go after the beast. "He's right. We can't risk it."

"Of anyone, I'm surprised," he replied, shrugging her hand. Aveline grabbed him again as he pulled away, dragging the elf back with her. The drake buckled over another of the horses, and its whiney filled the air as it was eviscerated.

"You aren't doing anyone favours running to your death," she said, frowning. "I don't like it either."

"Lovely time to chat," Varric inhaled as he spoke, "but maybe we can settle for tea after we're out of snacking distance?"

"I-" Fenris' words cut off as he glanced back at the crushed cart. The parchment was scattered in the dust, unbound and fluttering as the drake moved. He backed away with them and sighed.


	8. A Reprieve

_ "Thanks, Blondie," Varric said as he nursed his arm. A dragon lay dead in their wake._

_ "You're lucky it wasn't severed," Anders replied, shaking his head as he uncorked and drank a vial of lyrium. He exhaled through his nose before saying, "We need to get Fenris back to the city. He'll still have a lingering concussion, and it's best he get off his feet."_

_ "Such love for your comrades," Varric chuckled. "Turning over a new leaf?"_

_ "Oh, I won't let him live it down," Anders smirked._

_ "Maybe he'll forgive some of your gambling debts," Varric replied, and Anders narrowed his eyes at the dwarf. Fenris laughed once._

_ "Thank you, Anders," Siobhan said, shouldering Fenris' weight with ease. The elf struggled to keep his footing, and she hushed him as they began the slow walk back to the city. Not far from the Bone Pit, the land was strewn with qunari limbs and blood baking in the afternoon sun._

_ "Maker's mercy," Hawke said, and she eased Fenris to the ground. Leaning to kiss his brow, she hurried to search amongst the bodies._

_ "Here," Anders said, standing up and drawing his staff beside a fallen man. "He's still alive."_

_ "Stop," Hawke said as she hurried over. "You can't heal him against his will."_

_ "What, you'd rather leave him to die in agony?" Anders planted his staff down and murmured, "Hawke, don't think I'm that kind of person."_

_ "No, he'd rather die than have the corruption of your magic inflicted upon him." Siobhan knelt beside the fallen man, touching his shoulder. "Tell me if this is true. If you wish to be healed, I will let him."_

_ "You do me honour, basailt-an. I have heard of Hawke," the qunari whispered, before choking on his own blood. His eyes were unfocused, but his face turned to her. "There have already been foul magics at play. I may already be corrupt."_

_ "What would you have me do?"_

_ "Take our blades," the qunari rasped. "I must meet my end."_

_ "What? No – no! I won't let you do to him what you did to that saarebas!" Anders said._

_ "It isn't your choice, Anders," Hawke said, and reached for the qunari's blade as he struggled to lift it, the light in his eyes dimming._

_Fenris lifted his head from where he knelt nearby, lips in a grim line. _

_"I will do this for you. Asit tal-eb," Hawke whispered, and the qunari sighed heavily. His eyes began to darken, nodding at her sentiment before the blade found his throat. Standing, Siobhan looked down at him before saying, "Gather their swords. We'll take them back to Taarbas."_

* * *

><p>Siobhan walked with a heavy gait, slowed by her injuries. The days had been long, and the nights fitful and without rest - but the scent of the ocean in the air kept her moving today. She had been following the road south of the Planasene Forest - it was longer but generally thought of as safer. A lot of good that had done her.<p>

A curve in the road revealed green hills that disappeared over the edge of a cliff. Small stones dotted the landscape, and Hawke trudged off the road towards them, deeply inhaling the fresh air that welled up from the ocean below. The stones marked underground caverns, and she picked her way carefully amidst the graves – proof that she'd crossed into Nevarra. She went to stand at the edge of the cliff. It was the last of the high ground, and she could see the ribbon of the road descended to the southwest. When the fog shifted, she saw a hint of civilization.

Siobhan sighed with relief, and took off her helm before sinking to her knees in prayer. It was amidst her murmured words that familiar paralytic magic arrested her limbs, and her eyes flew open.

"I thought when those men attacked you, that you'd give me a chance."

Hawke's senses swam, and she closed her eyes to concentrate and listen to the crunch and plod of feet nearby. Her body wouldn't respond.

"But you kneel to take it," the man behind her rasped. "It's better like this."

Siobhan reeled as the man clocked her, gasping and pulling from the glyph to struggle to her feet. She could already feel the blood in her hair, an itch down the back of her neck.

"That you didn't even notice me following you," the man called, almost laughing as he twirled his staff and lit a fire beneath her. "Some Champion."

"Stop! Why are you doing this?" Hawke croaked, stumbling away from the fire as her armour heated. Her leg almost gave out as she swung at the mage, and his staff took the blade.

"I could make it about revenge," he said, and a black smoke issued forth from his grasp, causing Hawke to cry out in terror. She flailed at the air as he stalked around her. "Maybe vengeance is the proper word. You've known it well."

"Anders?" she shrieked, shaking her head. "No – no, no you aren't him."

Scoffing, the mage said, "Obviously not. But it would be worthy enough to do this for him too." Drawing on the Fade, he brought shot her with a bolt, and it left a blackened mark on her armour. "What about my friends? The ones you gutted with the templars?"

"They attacked me," Siobhan hissed, before a whimper rose in her throat. Fortifying her limbs, she cried out and lunged at the man. The mage deflected her blows, falling back before he got hacked in the leg. The wound froze in the chill left behind by her enchanted blade.

"Because you slaughtered us!" he cried, and light swirled at his feet. "Because we wanted to be free!"

Hawke shuddered as she bled more heavily, and her vision momentarily blurred. It didn't seem to matter, she was going to her purpose, if this was how it was to end – she would meet it. Her broadsword swung again, and she caught the mage's wrist as he cast again, a sickness rising through her limbs and forcing her to her knees. The man was screaming, but she could scarce hear it over the sound of her own retching.

Struggling to her feet once more, Siobhan moved without thought and decapitated the mage, collapsing back to her knees as his body hit the ground beside her.

"You are corrupt," she whispered, the words indelibly writ in her memory. "You blackened the Golden City, you brought sin to perfection. You defiled the world, and thousands suffer because of your hubris."

"Andrate's blessing upon you, child."

Hawke whimpered softly, hanging her head at the familiar voice. Dizziness washed through her, deadening her limbs. Swallowing her dry tongue, she lifted her head and opened her eyes into the sea breeze.

"Even the greatest of us must rest," Elthina said as she stooped to touch Hawke's head. "It belittles no one."

"I'm sorry," Hawke whispered, shuddering under the spectre's hand. The world was blurring into darkness. "I have forsaken all you did for me."

"Do not let it weigh upon you, my child," the Grand Cleric hushed, sinking closer as Siobhan slumped to the ground. "Death is the refuge for us all, a place to find forgiveness when all other doors close."

* * *

><p><em> "I have been blessed with comfort, and while I have suffered, the life I have lived in service to the Maker has been a good one. I have seen death, I have held babes to see them grow, and I have known <em>_the beauty of the Maker's Bride," the Grand Cleric said from where she stood at the lectern. Candles were lit all around her. "But I know the value of hardship. It is only through it that we can know the limits of our faith, and be wholly led into the Maker's light. Through trials and suffering we prove our worth to Him, and through the Chant, all will know that He waits to embrace you into His fold."_

_ Hawke kept her eyes on her hands as Elthina spoke to them. It was a hard winter, and Kirkwall was struggling to survive. The drought that came with the qunari uprising had left farmers empty-handed, and the sea's bounty seemed absent. The streets were wind torn, and the mats where they knelt before the Grand Cleric were all but bare._

_ "Many are those who wander in sin, Despairing they are lost forever," Elthina said, lifting her pale hands above the congregation. "But the one who repents, who has faith unshaken by the darkness of the world, and boasts not, nor gloats over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight in the Maker's law and creations – she shall know the peace of the Maker's benediction." _

_ "Maker, watch over us," Siobhan softly said, exhaling as she lifted her head. Sebastian sat beside her._

_ "It is good to see you today," he said and slowly offered a close-lipped smile._

_ "And you," Hawke tiredly said, reaching to touch his hand. "Her grace said you've been helping at the docks."_

_ "Aye," Sebastian replied, his eyes lingering on her hand before his face turned to the towering, golden statue of Andraste. "There is a great deal of suffering and destruction left in the wake of what the 'Qun demanded'. Sometimes I wonder if we do not realize the true threat the qunari pose the faithful."_

_ "They are trying to find meaning in the world," Hawke softly said as she took her hand back._

_ "They are asking to be given it, that is not the same," Sebastian replied._

_ "Isn't it? I pray to the Maker for strength, I beseech the Blessed Andraste for all of the people suffering in this city - you don't see any sort of similarity?" _

_ "Sio, you still surprise me sometimes," Sebastian said, furrowing his brow. "How can you say that after what the Arishok and his men did to Kirkwall? They are heretics."_

_ "Perhaps," Hawke sighed, slowly standing and rolling her mat. Sebastian followed as she walked to receive a blessing from the Grand Cleric. As she paused to store the mat, she turned to him and said, "In some ways, I imagine that so long as people are trying to do some good - are adhering to the values they believe in hopes of bettering the world they live in - they cannot be so terrible. Even if I don't think they are right."_


	9. A Walk

"Ma serannas," Varric said with a thin grin, waving to the Dalish who stared them down. As he turned with Aveline and Fenris in the wings, he muttered, "Tight-asses."

"At least they didn't kill us on sight?" Aveline offered.

"You can't tell me that Daisy's ..." Varric faltered a moment and shouldered Bianca more tightly on his back as they walked out from under the eaves of the forest. "You can't tell me her clan was ever that frigid."

"They have good reason," Fenris murmured as they strode towards the road.

"Motivations are entirely subjective." Varric exhaled, looking ahead as he wandered away from them.

It was mid-afternoon when they came upon a three-storey inn along the road, nestled in the thinning trees. The siding was weathered grey, testament to its age and a small stable was butted against the northern wall, with a trio of horses inside. The porch had a handful of chairs and a small table that were all vacant.

"It's about damned time," Varric said as he turned towards the building.

"No, we cannot afford to stop," Fenris said, and he motioned up-road. "For all we know, Sio... Hawke could already be there. If we stop, I might never see her again."

"In which case, there's no point in us hurrying," Varric sighed, turning around. "Look, Broody, my stubby little legs can't take this much hiking. And whether you like it or not, I'm having a drink."

Aveline stopped by Fenris' side and quietly said, "We'll rest the night and be better for it tomorrow. Perhaps we can find someone on their way to Cumberland?"

"I suppose," Fenris said with a sigh, and followed Varric into the inn. He kept his head down and went up to their room as soon as Aveline paid the proprietor. The guard captain followed him, and he helped her out of her armour. She was stretching her arms when Varric strolled in, looking rather pleased with himself.

"I have to tell you, I'm not sure I get enough credit for the work I do," Varric said with a smile as he shut the door behind him.

"What did you do?" Aveline asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh, just found us a ride to Cumberland," Varric said, smiling still. He shrugged and added, "A merchant downstairs lost his guard in the woods and will let us ride with him - so long as we protect his goods."

"That almost seems too good to be true," Fenris said, sinking into a chair to start the fire.

"Still," Aveline said as her shoulders relaxed. "Might as well take it and hope for the best."

"So glad you approve," Varric replied. "Since I already told him we'd be there at the crack of dawn."

* * *

><p><em> "I have been blessed with comfort, and while I have suffered, the life I have lived in service to the Maker has been a good one. I have seen death, I have held babes to see them grow, and I have known the beauty of the Maker's Bride." the Grand Cleric said from her lectern. Candles were lit all around her. "But I know the value of hardship. It is only through it that we can know the limits of our faith, and be wholly led into the Maker's light. Through trials and suffering we prove our worth to Him, and through the Chant all will know that He waits to embrace you into his fold."<em>

_ Hawke kept her eyes on her hands as Elthina spoke to them. It was a hard winter and Kirkwall was struggling to survive. The drought that had followed the qunari uprising had left farmers empty-handed, and the sea's bounty seemed absent. The streets were wind torn and iced. The mats where they knelt before the Grand Cleric were all but bare._

_ "Many are those who wander in sin, despairing they are lost forever," Elthina said, lifting her pale hands above the congregation. "But the one who repents, who has faith unshaken by the darkness of the world, and boasts not, nor gloats over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight in the Maker's law and creations – she shall know the peace of the Maker's benediction." _

_ "Maker, watch over us," Siobhan softly said, exhaling as she lifted her head. Sebastian sat beside her._

_ "It is good to see you today," he said and offered a close-lipped smile._

_ "And you," Hawke tiredly said__, reaching to touch his hand. "Her grace said you've been helping at the docks."_

_ "Aye," Sebastian replied, his eyes lingering on her hand before he turned his face to the towering, golden statue of Andraste. "There is a great deal of suffering and destruction left in the wake of what the 'Qun demanded'. Sometimes I wonder if we do not realize the true threat the qunari pose the faithful."_

_ "They are trying to find meaning in the world," Hawke said as she took her hand back._

_ "They are asking to be given it, that is not the same," Sebastian replied._

_ "Isn't it? I pray to the Maker for strength, I beseech the Blessed Andraste for all of the people suffering in this city - you don't see any sort of similarity?" _

_ "Sio, you still surprise me sometimes," Sebastian said, furrowing his brow. "How can you say that after what the Arishok and his men did to Kirkwall? They are heretics."_

_ "Perhaps," Hawke sighed, slowly standing and rolling her mat. Sebastian followed as she walked to receive a blessing from the Grand Cleric. When she paused to store the mat, she turned to him and said, "In some ways, I imagine that so long as people are trying to do some good - are adhering to the values they believe in hopes of bettering the world they live in - they cannot be so terrible. Even if I don't think they are right."_

* * *

><p>"Not too bad, isn't it?" Aveline said as she marched in front of the horses alongside Fenris.<p>

"Not for Varric, anyway," he replied, glancing back at the cart in which the dwarf slept.

"Hah," she chuckled, glancing skyward and inhaling deeply. "Did you meet the girls?"

"I saw them," Fenris said, keeping a quick pace. "The merchant did not wish to speak of them."

"Volpen said they are shy. I wonder if they're his daughters?"

Fenris shrugged and continued on. The trees gradually thinned and the air filled with the refreshing breeze of the sea. The day's travel was without incident, and when they camped that night, he idled as the girls skinned a rabbit and tended to the horses.

With the merchant in his tent, he went to help them with the tack.

"Like this," he quietly said, taking over and neatly undoing the strap. He chuckled. "Do you not know their proper care?"

The girl dipped her chin down and shook her head as she hid her hands.

Fenris frowned and stopped what he was doing. "I'm sorry. It's alright not to know. I often aided my... former Master with his horse. Speed and accuracy were a necessity."

Eyes widening, the girl looked back to where her counterpart was setting the rabbit over the fire. She motioned dramatically.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Fenris said in a hurry as the girl ran to the fire. Tugging on the cuff of her friend, the second woman stood up and looked his way. He sighed as she came closer.

"What did you say to her?" she whispered, glancing towards the merchant's tent.

"That I... had a master, I wished nothing more than to help her with the horses," Fenris said and dipped his head. "I apologize if I bothered her."

"You had a master?" The woman asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes," Fenris said with some difficulty. "But no longer."

Fear surfaced in the woman's eyes as she took Fenris by the hand, startling him with the strength of her grip. "Please help us! He's taken us from our homes! He cut out my sister's tongue!"

"What?"

"We are from Kirkwall, my brother was a templar but – but he was killed in the uprising," she hurried to say. "We had nothing, someone recommended us for servant work with the messere, but it... I can't be talking to you!"

"Wait," Fenris firmly said as the woman turned away, catching air as she huddled back down near the fire. His eyes turned to where hers fled from.

Volpen emerged from his tent and tugged his jacket smooth, before raising a hand in greeting. He beckoned Fenris closer. "Greetings – you know, I can't deny my own curiosity. I have wanted to ask about your marks."  
>"Why am I not surprised?" Fenris asked, his voice tempered. "I used to be a slave to a Tevinter magister."<p>

Volpen cleared his throat, arching his brow as he said, "Really? You must be – have been worth a great deal."

"Lyrium is not cheap," Fenris replied. He kept his eyes focused on the man as he took a slow step closer. "I crushed his heart my palm when he tried to reclaim me."

"Ah I –" Volpen choked as Fenris snagged his neck, the sharp edges of his armour digging into the merchant's skin. The gurgle of alarm in his throat grew as the brands upon Fenris' skin began to glow.

"So I am certain you can imagine how I feel about slavers," Fenris hissed, digging his fingers in. The man kicked and the sputter of his choking grew. The two women turned in blanched surprise. "Filth!"

"Fenris, what are you-" Aveline started, and drew her sword when Fenris acted. With a jolt of energy, he drove his illuminated fist into the merchant's chest. Volpen's eyes widened as Fenris' muscles jerked, and the man's body went limp in his grasp. When he was dropped to the ground, there was an odd silence.

Fenris stood his ground, blood dripping from his fingertips. "The girls. He stole them from Kirkwall."

Aveline's mouth dropped open, and she looked to where the girls. "Is that true?"

"Yes, messere," the woman said, ushering her sister behind her. There was a tremble in her voice as she spoke to Fenris. "Thank you – thank you so much."

Swallowing the cotton in his throat, Fenris kept his eyes from the weeping body at his feet. "Take the horses. Take the cart. Find a life from it."

Varric screwed his eyes shut as he stood up from by the fire and yawned. "What'd I miss?" He arched his brow as the two women ran by. The eldest hoisted her sister up onto one of the horses, soon mounting to take the reins. "Hey... hey wait, don't we need those?"

"We'll walk," Fenris replied, finally looking down. Though his expression was a mask, he clenched his bloodied fist as he regarded Volpen. "Had the man not indicated we were close to Cumberland?"

"Close," Varric scoffed, throwing his hands up as the two women disappeared with the cart. "Right. Because I forgot how much I love walking."


	10. An Escape

The quiet murmur of voices crept into Siobhan's senses, and when she opened her eyes, the blurry world took too long to focus. She tried to move, but nausea rose in her stomach and pain throbbed up her neck and her head. She groaned and dropped back down, closing her eyes.

"Jacobah, I think she's awake."

Hawke rolled her head towards the sound of footsteps on wood. She was lying on a thin matt of straw on the floor.

"He didn't think you were going to open your eyes," the young woman said as she sunk to Hawke's side. The woman put a hand on her chest. "You were very badly hurt."

"Where am I?" Siobhan whispered through thick lips. When she tried to sit up again, the woman pressed her back down.

"Don't move," the woman said and rose to pour something into a wooden cup. She tucked her strawberry blond hair behind her ear.

"The city," Jacobah said. He leant against the hearth, standing with his arms crossed.

"City?"

"Cumberland," the woman said as she sat on the ground and took Hawke's hand, wrapping it around the cup. She reached to lift Hawke's head. "I'm Elisa, this is Jacobah. Our father brought you here, he found you on the road back to the city. Drink."

Siobhan tried to move again, and Elisa held her head as the dizziness threatened to overtake her again. She closed her eyes and drank it all. It was bitter and left a coolness in her mouth. When she made to speak again, her words slurred together. She knew the sensation – Anders had given her something like it once.

"Just rest," Elisa said, her voice cutting through the haze. Her voice progressively sounded more like his. "It will keep you awake, but you shouldn't move. You're lucky to be alive, with what happened."

"I… don wannnt…" Hawke's lips were fat and numbed in her mouth, as heavy as her limbs and senses.

"You always had the luck, you know," Anders said. His voice grew softer. "I just wanted to live like you. To have normal lives. We all did."

Siobhan tried to turn her head, she could see his blond hair in her periphery. He was hovering over her, lingering nearby. Her chest tightened, trapped in lethargy, and a soft groan squeaked out.

I made you a martyr instead, Siobhan thought as her lips failed her. The world softened further, almost like seeing while you slept, and the voices in the room dipped beyond her recognition.

The slam of a door jarred her senses back into some semblance of reality some time later, and Hawke stirred awake.

"There was a slaughter in the market," an older man said, his voice trembling. "Mages and templars from the Circle, they were together … it all happened so fast."

"What?" Elisa rose and put her stitching down. She paled and hurried to him. "Father, you're bleeding!"

"No, no," he said and shook her hand off. "It's not mine. My stall was hit, and Frederick was badly hurt. Where's your brother - you have to come, we'll lose everything!"

"But what about her?" Elisa asked.

"She is not your kin," her father snapped and grabbed her arm. "Get your basket, others need you more."

"We'll be back soon," Elisa said as she hurried around the small room. She knelt by Hawke and touched her forehead. "You'll be safe here. Just rest."

Siobhan wasn't able to gauge the time properly as she laid in the semi-dark, her head gradually clearing from the drink she'd been given. When she finally sat up, she groaned and tentatively touched the back of her head. There were rough stitches over a scabbed gash, and it was hot to the touch.

"Stay in bed, plum," came a soft rumble of a voice. "No more running."

Hawke's jaw tightened, and she cautiously pulled up to her feet. The nausea seemed to be gone, but her head still throbbed. She steadied a hand on the wall and tugged down the nightgown she was garbed in. The wall reminded her of the scrubby plaster that she'd lived in those first years in Kirkwall. She could almost hear mother and Gamlen fighting. Then she spotted her armour nearby.

* * *

><p><em>Running through the bushes, Siobhan finally stopped and collapsed at the base of a beech tree, covering her face and wiping away her tears. She wrapped her<em>_ spindly arms around her legs and leaned against the bark, hiding her face against her knees as she stifled the sounds of her sniffling and gupped breath._

_ Siobhan looked up through the trees. The few clouds in the night sky were illuminated by the three-quarter moon and magnified its glow. Still, her eyes had trouble focusing on the leaves. They shuddered in a light southern breeze, but it was only movement, not specifics. Though maybe it was her teary eyes that blurred it too. Her head twitched when she heard the snap of a twig. Then she saw him._

_ "How do you do it?" Siobhan asked, her voice thick and nasally. "How do you always find me?"_

_ "Oh, I have my ways," Malcolm Hawke replied and pushed a low branch on the tree aside so he could duck down. "You're getting faster, you know."_

_ "Anyone can run fast," Siobhan said and wrapped her legs around her knees again. _

_ Malcolm exhaled as he sat down beside her. He moved the small sword that hung from her waist to make room for himself at her side. "It worries your mother when you do this, you know."_

_ Siobhan's expression soured, hidden by her arms as she stared down through her knees. "But not you."_

_ "Of course I worry, plum," Malcom said, and he wrapped his arm around her. "Even if I think you are growing more and more capable of looking after yourself, you're still a my little girl."_

_ "Just a boring normal child," Siobhan said into her arms._

_ "Hardly," he scoffed. "How many of your friends have travelled across the country? How many of them have an enchanted sword?"_

_"But they could travel – they could just buy a sword," Siobhan replied, lifting her head without looking at him. "Not like Bethany."_

_ "No," Malcolm quietly said. He ran his hand up his daughter's back, drawing her into his arm and kissing her brow. "No, you get to live the normal life we will never have. She needs you, Sio. I need you to always look out for her. She isn't as strong as you are."_

_ Siobhan let herself be drawn in against him, hugging her arms close to her body. _

_ "No more running," Malcolm whispered to her, running his hand over her dark hair. _

_ "Then why are we leaving again?"_

_ "Because we run together," he replied, and kissed her brow again before picking her up._

* * *

><p>"Happy? We came right to the docks," Varric grumbled, crossing his arms. "My feet are blistered and numb, thanks for asking."<p>

"The city is huge," Aveline murmured. She blinked lengthily before saying, "I don't even know where to begin, Fenris."

"Wait here then," he replied, scanning the dockside street. "I'll find the harbourmaster."

"I'll wait there, thanks," Varric waved at a nearby stone wall, and crept off to sit down as Fenris turned away.

The air smelt of salt, tar and sweat, and the open docks were bustling with sailors and dockworkers. Further up shore, cargo ships entered isolated wharfs, but here, smaller vessels and fishermen traversed with organized chaos. Fenris kept his head down and listened to their conversations as he lost his way along the waterfront. When his frustration had grown to breaking, he forced himself to snag the attention of an elf running along the planks.

"The harbourmaster's shack," Fenris said, letting go of the man's arm.

The elf did a double take before pointing nearby and taking off once more.

Making it down the rocky quay, Fenris was about to knock on the door when it opened and a rotund man with a fuzzy black beard came out. They stopped in each other in their tracks.

"What?" The man tucked a wide ledger under his arm. "Shouldn't you be working?"

Fenris narrowed his eyes but merely said, "Kont-arr. When does the next ship depart?"

The harbourmaster sighed before his deep voice boomed, "The sodding thing should have already left. It's not still there, is it? Damned captains, think the only time in the world worth anything is their own..."

"What berth?"

"Nine," the man grumbled, before pushing past to go snag a young boy waiting nearby.

"Are you certain?"

"Did you not hear me the first time, knife-ear?" The harbourmaster scarce looked at him as he took a few coin from the boy and sent him off again.

Fenris grit his teeth and spun away towards the secluded wharfs, speeding up to jog amidst the crates, sailors and filth along the wall. His heart thudded and blurred his senses, and his thoughts harkened back to the first moment he had found her things absent – when he had read her letter. When he realized she was gone. He had ignored it across the miles, swallowing away the honest truth of her flight.

When he stepped into the ninth berth, the feeling dropped out of his stomach, and Fenris stood numbly at the edge of the empty water. He took a few steps towards the pier, half-tripping over the chain mooring in his way. The wind was blowing in and filling the space with the cries of wheeling gulls and the humid cold of the ocean. His expression crumpled, and Fenris dropped his chin as he trembled from something more than the cold.

Amidst the calls and clanks of loading from the adjacent berth, the soft sound of a woman singing wove through, and Fenris' drooped further. It was something to hold onto as the pain spread like a poison through his limbs, and he took a deep breath as he listened further. He stepped after it onto the dock.

"Siobhan," Fenris whispered. When the singing continued, he lifted his head and picked his steps along the pier. There was someone sitting along the wall at the end. "Siobhan?"

The figure hunched forward, and Hawke's sickly features came into relief as she turned her head. She didn't look at him, but dropped her gaze and quietly said, "Oh."

Fenris made a sound of disbelief and said, "It's you. You're here."

"Yes," she replied, looking back at the water. "I missed the boat."

"You left us all. You abandoned Kirkwall," Fenris said, his voice trembling. "I thought you were gone, I thought I'd lost you."

"I thought if anyone, you would understand the need to run. The need to get away," Siobhan said, pulling the cloak on her back more tightly around herself. "I couldn't be trapped there anymore, Fenris, living the life everyone else needed – that everyone else wanted." Her voice hardened, although it grew smaller. "I did this for me. I wanted to think of me for a change."

"And what about me?"

"You walked out on me!" Hawke replied with equal fire. "Without even listening!"

"I know… it was wrong of me." Fenris took the last few steps to her side. "When I learnt of what Sebastian had done… I assumed the worst. Through it all. And you deserve better than that." Swallowing the thickness in his throat, he added, "I am sorry."

Siobhan's shoulders shook slightly, and she said, "Did you come all this way just to apologize?"

"I came all this way because I love you – and I never want to be apart from you!" Fenris gestured with a hand and said, "I'm not going to let you go destroy yourself by converting to the Qun!"

"It isn't your choice to make," Hawke said as she stood up, running a hand over her eyes.

Fenris grabbed her by the arms as she stood, and it forced her eyes up to his. "Yes it is. You made me belief I am worth something, Sio. And I need you in my life, something it won't allow."

Hawke closed her eyes, the wrinkles of age showing about her eyes and across her forehead.

Loosening his grip, Fenris pushed her dark hair back from her forehead and more quietly said, "Are all our times worth nothing? To never pick up a sword again, to never spar again - tell me you do not want me, that you do not love me, and I will go. I will leave you to find the Qun."

When more tears spilled down Hawke's cheeks, Fenris smeared his palm over them and whispered, "I cannot promise I'll make it better... But I will try with all my being to make it less worse. I want you - I want our path together, walking the same road."

"I am so tired, my wolf," Hawke whispered, and she trembled as Fenris enveloped her in his arms. Her fingers traced the neckline of his clothing and up the brand along his neck. "So tired of choosing my path, of doing what is right. My sword is so heavy, can I not merely be led where I should go?"

"Then let me lead you," Fenris whispered and breathed into her hair. When she pressed her lips into the curve of his neck, he looked skyward. "You saved me from myself. Let me do the same. We will face the road together."

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you enjoyed the Invocation, it was a fun challenge for me to write it. I wanted to see the other side of the conflict in DA2. I realize some readers have been rather upset by this plot line, but to me that meant I was doing something right. If a story incites emotion, good or bad, then I'd like to imagine it's being told well heh. Thanks for reading!**


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